I’m continuing on with the highlander/time-travel novel I’m writing. This continues from my post last week.
“Ach,” Beatrice said in her Scottish burr, an accent she rarely gave up even though it did not rightly belong to her. Born to a couple in the lowlands, she had been raised just outside of London by her aunt. While she had visited Scotland a few times, Beatrice was just as much English as Jasmine’s father was. The old woman always claimed her Scottish roots, though, proud of her claims to being a descendent of several notably rakish Lairds who had fought hard against the English in the mid sixteen hundreds. “Look at ye,” she said with a warm smile. “It has been too long, little Jas. I have kept tabs on ye since your father took ye from me. Donn’a look so surprised,” she added sharply before smiling again. “When did ye ever know me to listen to me own son?”
Now go on and check out the other WIP It Up posts. You know you wanna! 🙂